Sista Soldier


She fights back tears,

For the appearance of strength,

A façade we are all too willing to accept.

Generic laudations brought to bear

Because her shoulders can take it,

She isn’t crying right?

She fights her demons.

A silent struggle

Right before your eyes,

Do you see them?

Twisted figures called,

Uncertainty and remorse,

Bitter reprimand for all that she’s lost,

Not for being or for doing,

But for all the tiny memories never made for her forever,

In the struggle to be she who is ever steadfast provider.

She fights her isolation,

A mind set apart by responsibility,

Or is it obligation to the heart.

The heart torn from her body but still,

Holding jurisdiction of the flow of her soul,

Not wanting to alienate you with her plight,

She sits aside astride a throne invisible,

Made of her complicated existence,

And just like that throne

So too are her wounds rendered undetectable to you,

Sista Soldier,





Vibrant in her alone.

© Michelle Toussaint, all rights reserved


About Michelle Toussaint

Michelle Toussaint is an Antiguan who has amassed an Associate Degree in Science Education as well as a Diploma in Forensic Science. As such, she Teaches Science in the classroom as well as at home, where she co-leads The Tribe. A merry band comprising her Husband-The Chief, herself-The Priestess, and her three precocious children- the tribesmen. When she isn’t mothering, teaching, being a fangirl or feeding her chocolate addiction. She writes two blogs. Random_Michelle and Death By Expectations. View all posts by Michelle Toussaint

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